Remember in these ‘uncertain times’ to practice ‘mindfulness’ until you get it right
It’s hard to be a loner when you can’t even go out and avoid people.
I was reminded of this the other day, when I saw one of those notices about the risks of feeling lonely, depressed and anxious during the coronavirus crisis. I thought, “Hey, I have experience in that. I should write a column about it.”
Then I remembered online nitpickers would dismiss my lifelong expertise as a so-called “bad example,” and if people took my advice, the 911 phones might light up with nuisance complaints that ruined Columbus’ weeks-long COVID-19 drop in crime stats.
For example, if you’re like me, then not only should you not admit this, when read your Miranda rights, but you may have a tendency to use anger to vent the frustration of being homebound for weeks on end, as if a judge already sentenced you to house arrest.
So you need to watch yourself. You don’t want to be bouncing off the walls as if your kids are playing Ultimate Frisbee in the hall, even if they are.
I don’t have any kids my wife knows are mine, so that’s not my problem. That’s your problem, and you can’t fix it if you can’t even admit you have a problem, because if you can’t admit you have a problem, you know what that is?
That’s another problem. So that’s two problems you don’t have to admit to, in these uncertain times. Others may follow.
For example, when people call these “uncertain times” on TV, I wake the dogs yelling at the screen.
I can think of some things to call these times — “bad times,” “hard times,” “end times,” etc. — but not “uncertain.” As an old, bald, angry man who remembers at least the late 1960s and most of the 1970s and … like … a lot of the ‘80s and ‘90s, and … whatever the next decade’s called, and … let’s see … the years 2010 through 2015 are kind of a blank, but after that ….
Anyway, I have seen uncertain times, whether I remember them or not. These are not uncertain times. These times most certainly, definitely, positively, we-have-confirmation-100-percent stink.
“Stink” does not mean “hopeless.” It just means you’re under no obligation to put on a happy face and use vapid euphemisms when times are hard. You can go cuss and play sad songs and cry.
You don’t have to pretend everything’s OK. If you need to vent and wake the dogs yelling at the TV and then make them wreck furniture chasing the kids’ Frisbee down the hall, that’s up to you.
But the term “uncertain times” is not all you can yell at: You also have “mindfulness.”
You have to practice “mindfulness,” in these uncertain times, because if you’re like me, then you’re not ducking therapists just because they can’t keep their social distance: They’re also telling you to be “mindful.”
For example, if you’re bouncing down the hall like a Frisbee with a dog on its tail, because working at home’s driving you nuts — for some reason you did not anticipate back when you dreaded going to the office — then you should be mindful that at least you’re still working, while so many others are not.
Besides using others’ misfortune to feel better about yourself (Do you feel better now? It’s all about you, you know), you should go for a walk: It’s spring. It’s beautiful outside. The scent of honeysuckle rides the wind.
It’s hard to be a loner, when you have no one to avoid, but that’s the challenge we now must all face together, in these uncertain times.
For example, I went out to shoot sunset photos on the Dillingham Street Bridge the other day, and had to cross to the other side every time people came my way, so I could avoid them.
Then I noticed power lines marred my sunset photos, so I put the camera in my backpack to go find a clear view.
That’s when a bald eagle soared low over the bridge right in front of me, silhouetted against the red sunset, and dipped to the river below, its white tail blazing in the shadows as it swooped to the spring-green trees on the Alabama bank.
It seemed like a hopeful sign, in these dark times.
“I JUST PUT THE @#$%ING CAMERA UP!” I yelled at it.